CHAPTER 5: THE CELEBRATION
Late that night, before the guests were to arrive, I stumbled into the room used by Dimka. The men from the Corporation were using rooms inside the main house. There was a separate large guest lodge where the guests would be staying. This was the second time I moved down the hall to Dimka after spending time with each of the others.
"Dimka?" I softly called from the open doorway. "Are you awake?"
"Come here," came his sleep-heavy voice from the dark. "You need to get some sleep." He held the sheet up for me to crawl in alongside him. He pulled me tight to his strong body and I squeezed in even tighter. "You are going to be very busy starting tomorrow."
He raised my upper leg and I felt his cock at my ass. I had been fucked all night it seemed by the men of the corporation. Not the first time. Since I was already full of their cum, I knew I wouldn't need the lubrication. He held me tight and flexed his hip and penetrated my pussy with a powerful thrust. Between the two of us, we wiggled him in deeper. He said I should sleep, I thought. Then, to my surprise, he wrapped his arm around me and held me tight, his body formed tightly along with mine, and except for his breathing his body was quiet. This felt so right.
I lay like that for minutes listening to the quiet of the house and Dimka's soft breathing into my hair. "I like this, Dimka." He grunted but his squeeze confirmed he did, too. I released a long breath and felt my body and mind sink into deeper relaxation. My last thought was: I'm going to fall asleep with the biggest cock I've ever imagined deep up my pussy. I squeezed into him. He jerked his cock and squeezed me back.
* * * *
The other men began arriving after mid-day. I was upstairs in a bedroom. Waiting. I stood at a massive window that looked over the back of the house and yard stretching to the wilds. On the manicured lawn below (out of sync with the surrounding nature) were a semi-circle of tables and chairs and awnings to block the sun for those that wanted it. It was all organized around a central area left open. My entrance into the event was intended to be dramatic and had been rehearsed a couple of times. Mr. Okafor wasn't so much interested in good acting as much as it not being too clumsy. So, I waited.
As the guests were assembled, drinks were served, mingling was engaged in so both company men became at least introduced. After several drinks had been consumed, a bit of entertainment was being introduced. Through the open window, I heard the introduction. Young women would perform a couple of traditional dances. When the drumming began, a line of young, dark-skinned women danced out. They were barefoot, bare-breasted, and wearing coarse grass skirts. Around their necks were several strings of beads and artifacts. All were genuine I was told as the young women were from the tribe. The tribe. I have heard so much about that tribe the Corporation men were from. So much pride. So much respect in the traditions even though they now lived in the Western-style. I noticed Mr. Okafor's wife next to him. She was not bare-breasted this time.
After the dances, there were more drinks and a buffet opened in several tents. After the early dinner, I was signaled by Dimka who stood and looked up where I was to be watching. I moved deliberately to the ground floor where two deeply black young men were waiting with my outfit. The men were each wearing loin-type cloth and nothing else. Their solid, muscular bodies gleamed from waiting in the sun. My outfit for this drama: a conservative white linen dress buttoning down the front. It took me only a moment to put it on.
The whole idea of this little drama would be unheard of almost anywhere including much of this very continent. The visitors had been checked out and screened, though. All were African, if not from 'the tribe', and all harbored similar latent impulses triggered by the Western invasion, domination, and abuse of native lands and people. Mr. Contee told me the little drama had two goals: one, to present me; two, to inflame deep-seated impulses regarding white people and bind the men in that heat. To be the one they would be focused on was both frightening and lustfully exciting.
The two men representing tribal warriors dragged me, literally, through the semi-circle of chairs and tables. My head swiveled to capture my surroundings and I was dropped to the ground at the feet of another man dressed like the other two. Dimka. Dressed like this he looked even more like an African man-god. He told the men to lift me. They did. They each grabbed a side of my dress in front and ripped it away from me. In a single movement, the dress was ripped from my body and down my arms. We had only walked through this part of it and described in general terms my coming rape. Having it happen, though, sent a chill through me that felt very real. I stood timidly before Dimka and realized at that moment the hush that had descended on the audience of men watching.
I struggled for a moment, then Dimka shouted a word I didn't recognize. The two men lifted me and dropped me to the lawn. As I looked up, the men stripped off their cloth coverings. These cocks were closer to normal sized, 6 or 7 inches. I glanced at Dimka from my position below him. He was focused on the men watching, shouted another word I didn't know, and a cheer rose from the tables around us. I was about to be 'raped' but my overriding thought was that these men MIGHT be half as big as Dimka's mighty cock.
I was brought back to the drama being played out as a man knelt between my widely splayed legs. I began to struggle weakly as the second man held my shoulders to the ground. When the cock was slammed into my pussy, I cried out as I was instructed to do but my pussy reflexively clenched around the invader as my training required. The men cheered as I was taken, then cheered again when the second man fed his cock into my mouth open in a cry. They fucked me on both ends at the same time, the same aggressiveness. I clenched my pussy and sucked my mouth.
They, in time, came. I didn't. I was frustrated though I went through the motions and actions of having been defiled. I looked at Dimka standing over us like a great warrior-chief. I'd been spoiled. I'd been spoiled by big cock. That was the reason he trained me to squeeze around small cocks. He knew. They knew. They knew what their big African cock would do to me. I craved one of their big cocks. I needed one of their big cocks.
My wandering mind was brought back by gasps and murmurs from the tables. I raised my head to look around. We had just finished what was planned for the drama. Then I looked up and a smile began forming on my face that I had to push down. Standing above me was my man-god exposed. His covering removed, his long, thick big cock hung before him pointing at me despite it being aroused. He motioned to the two men and they lifted me to my feet. They had this planned without including me but that gave me the ability to truly looked surprised and confused.
With a man grasping an arm on either side, I was lifted into the air in front of Dimka who grasped me with an arm just under my breasts from the back. From the back. I was lifted and felt the head of his massive cock at my leaking pussy and settled down over it. My mouth opened and a long sigh escaped. After the smaller cock his seemed to go impossibly deep inside but no deeper than I had experienced so many other times. He muttered into my hair, "act".
The enjoyment I felt was quickly replaced. My eyes and mouth opened wide. I cried out in protest and anguish. The audience was raptly watching, then broke into more cheers and approval as if they were truly witnessing the savage rape and abuse of a white woman by a tribal warrior taking revenge for the rape and abuse of their lands, peoples, and cultures. It was only symbolic but I witnessed the depth of the resentments still lingering.
I was impaled on his massive pole, my body exposed, my legs and arms hanging limply. Dimka took a couple of steps toward the table where I found Mr. Okafor and his wife with two other men. Mr. Okafor looked pleased. His wife smiled at me and nodded. Our eyes fixed on each other and I saw not only a smile but approval and at that moment it occurred to me that she may be a key, also. If owning the medallion I wore now was something I wanted, her support might be a key to her husband's support which I needed. I just wondered what it meant to own this medallion.
"You are such a big cock slut," came Dimka's whisper in my ear through my hair. "I could see it in your eyes after those little cocks."
I raised my head in mock anguish and bemoaning my fate. The men watching laughed and cheered as if all this was real. I then muttered for only Dimka to hear, "God, yes ... I love your fucking cock. Yes ... I love cock ... but I ... worship ... all the big ... cocks ... you men ... use on me."
He chuckled while walking in front of the tables lifting me with his arms and dropping me on his pole. "You can't get enough big African cock, can you?" he taunted me. I shook my head and it might have looked to the others like I was trying to deny what was happening to me. The men at the tables smiled at my seeming anguish and, perhaps, they truly believed I was in anguish at being impaled on such a pole, my naked front displayed, my breast bouncing with each drop. "Then release the cock-slut we both know you are," he continued, "and convince Mr. Okafor and you'll get all the big African cock you want ... maybe more than you want."
More than I want? Was such a thing possible? All the big cock I've fucked and I've always desired each fuck. I didn't know what this medallion meant but I had to find out.
